


Breathe Again

by buckysbears (DrZebra)



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Everyone Needs A Hug, F/F, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Language Barrier, Light Angst, Pre-Relationship, Sign Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-25 21:53:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21672514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrZebra/pseuds/buckysbears
Summary: Janai doesn't know the sign for sister, but she will.In this one quiet moment, they can understand enough.
Relationships: Amaya/Janai (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 28
Kudos: 234





	Breathe Again

**Author's Note:**

> janaya has stolen my heart :))) please send help

The battle was over, and now they could … what? Rest? They can’t rest, not now—not after a war, not after betrayal—they have too much to do, too much they could lose that Amaya would die protecting.

The kingdom.

Her nephews.

She glances up at the Sunfire elf. _J-A-N-A-I._ In private, she’d tested the name on her fingers, going through the motions again and again. But there hadn’t been a lot of time. In the smoke and ash, in the chaos of it, Amaya hadn’t even known the battle was over. When a hand had found her shoulder—her sore, aching shoulder—she’d turned with a snarl and a lunge. It was only Janai, beaming.

Amaya had raised her eyebrows in a question. The smoke swirled around them.

 _O-K!_ Janai had signed in shaky letters. She motioned to the field around them. _O-K, O-K, finished!_

For the first time, Amaya sheathed her sword, freeing both her hands. “It’s really finished?”

The elf nodded, her hands twisting again.

 _Finished_.

They were done. The battle was over. The battle was over, but the fight wasn’t, Amaya knew. The battle was over, but next they had to sway hearts, turn the tide of nations, and that fight would be much, much harder.

Now, they sit in a room in the spire, made of stone and dark cloth and so many plants Amaya has never seen before. They glow and waft, far too beautiful for what had just happened at the spire’s base. That’s another thing worth protecting—just the beauty of it.

She risks another glance at Janai, finally setting her sword aside.

Amaya hefts off her shoulder pads and sets them on the bed next to her. This must have been a room of the dragon guard—Callum had explained what he could. The bed looks soft, but Amaya has yet to remove her gloves. She hadn’t removed them since they left Lux Aurea. She looks down at her hands, now burning, itching, aching after the battle. She closes her eyes, just for a moment, then starts to peel them off. The leather is melted to her burned flesh, and it hurts. Maybe more than anything that happened in the battle, it hurts.

She must have made a noise. She’s aware that to the hearing, pain is audible. Her mind circles on what a curse that must be—to _hear_ pain. What’s a battle to them? Nothing but screams and echoes of regret.

She knows she’s made a noise because suddenly, there Janai is, crouching on the stone floor in front of her. Amaya waves her off, signs, “I’m okay,” but the elf is staring up at her with such heartbreak and concern that it makes Amaya stop and be still.

“I burned you,” Janai says. Amaya doesn’t know if it’s a whisper, a statement … _I burned you_. Her face says regret.

She moves to sign again, but Janai’s hand reaches up and falls to Amaya’s, fingers brushing lightly over fingers. Amaya watches it happen, watches the elf’s hand explore her own. Janai’s mouth moves again.

“You saved me from Viren. Why?”

Amaya pushes a little breath from her nose. She extracts her hand.

“My sister—”

Janai’s eyebrows draw in confusion. She doesn’t know that sign, but she will.

Amaya’s expression pinches in sympathy.

“My heart died.”

That, Janai understands. A finger to the heart, the hands rolling over. She may not have known the signs before, but she feels their meaning.

“We’re the same,” Amaya signs.

Janai’s chin trembles as she nods. Amaya thinks that it’s not just anger that the Sunfire elves—that Janai—feel so strongly. The grief is there on her face; a good archer could spot it from miles away. But, Amaya thinks, she must have looked the same. A man who was deaf like her and blind on top could’ve _felt_ it. Her heart had cracked like an earthquake.

 _Same_ , Janai echoes back, hand moving between them. Her fingers shake as they drop to Amaya’s leg, looking for something sturdy to balance her. Her expression breaks as the tears start to pour down her cheeks.

“It’s not fair!”

Amaya knows the shape those words take on lips. She’d seem them before, from Harrow, from Callum … those are the shape of grief, of suffering. Those words can start a dangerous path.

Amaya reaches out.

One hand brushes the tears from Janai’s cheek.

“It’s not fair,” Amaya starts to sign, sure the elf isn’t getting all of it, but her eyes are focused and that’s what matters. “But we live. We love. In the future, we’ll breathe again.”

Janai’s eyes travel from Amaya’s hands up to her face, searching for meaning, searching for … something. Whatever she finds, she nods, eyes closing for only a moment as she leans into the hand that now cups her cheek.

When her eyes open, Amaya signs, “In the future, you’ll be okay.”

More tears well in her eyes. “I don’t want to be okay without her.” And this, Amaya knows, is said in a whisper.

“I know.”

Amaya silences herself by reaching out with her other hand to find the back of Janai’s neck, silences Janai by closing her eyes. Their foreheads meet, and Amaya just holds her there, just like that. The elf starts to shake. Her hands come up to cling desperately back at Amaya—on her arms, on her shoulder, the back of her neck, her hair. Amaya can’t see her, but she can feel the sobs by the way her body shakes and jolts. And then, that’s not enough, these little points of contact, and Amaya is forced to move back as Janai pushes against her.

Janai settles on her lap, head buried in the crook of Amaya’s shoulder. This is another thing Amaya can’t hear—crying. She thinks it would break her. But it’s something she can _feel_ , and that’s what matters now, that she can feel Janai’s tears against her neck and the way her arms cling tight. Amaya’s heart breaks for her, and she can feel Janai’s own fractured heart in the jump of her chest where they’re pressed together.

Amaya’s arms circle her. The elf is warm, so warm, almost hot to the touch. It doesn’t dissuade her. She puts a hand on Janai’s hair, wraps an arm around her middle, and holds on. And like this, with Janai’s lips hidden away, with Amaya’s hands taken, that’s all she can do, is hold on. There’s nothing left to say that can’t be said with this.


End file.
